Ginsu Girl
by Howlitzer
Summary: You've gotta stay sharp to make it out of this one, honey.


a/n: I'm writing a new story. This is probably a horrible idea, even though I really want to start this, because I have lots of stuff open already.

Anyways, enjoy as always. Blessings.

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><p>"<em>I look in your eyes and I can see…we've loved so dangerously. You're not trusting your heart to anyone…<em>"

It was a warm morning in Station Square.

With her ear buds blaring music, Amy Rose set to work in the kitchen of her apartment. The sharp knife in her hand waved in the air as she lost herself in the song, slowly shuffling from side to side as she cut into fresh tomatoes.

"_When it's this good, there's no saying no…I want you, so I'm ready to go._"

Steam wafted up from the small pot on the electric stove nearby. Amy lifted the lid and dipped a wooden spoon into the mixture inside, bringing it up to nibble at it. A smile came to her lips as she turned down the heat.

"_Through the fire, through the limit, to the wall…for a chance to be with you, I'd gladly risk it all!_"

She spun back to the cutting board, reflexively pushing up her sweatshirt as it slid off of one shoulder.

"_Through the fire, through what ever come, what may…_"

A loud knocking came from the front door. She wiped her hands with a piece of paper towel, tossing it into the garbage bin behind her. Fluffy pink slippers scraped against the tiles before moving against the dark carpet near the entrance. Amy adjusted her hair with one hand, clutching her Ginsu knife in the other absentmindedly.

"Wonder who that could be this early…_for a chance at loving you, I'd take it all the way, right down to the wire…_"

She opened the door.

"_Even through the fire…_"

Putting on a smile, she expected one of her friends, maybe a salesperson or a neighbour at least.

There was…somebody standing in the doorway.

No, not somebody anymore. Some_thing_.

Discoloured flesh hung and even _dripped_ off of exposed bone and blackened muscle. Beneath a torn business suit lay glimpses of the heart and lungs, beating futilely and out of tune with ragged, snarling breaths. A disfigured face, the skin peeling off of it with recessed eyes that barely stayed in their sockets. Saliva dripped from a hanging jaw and literally burned the carpet as it fell onto it.

The smell of fresh vegetables was replaced with the rotting stench of death. It seeped into her nose, her mouth, made her body shudder in disgust. The smell was choking her, bit by bit. Her stomach twisted inside of her, her feet stuck to the floor like magnets.

The once human thing swayed to one side, like a leaf in the wind.

Then it lunged at her.

Amy threw an arm up to defend herself, her mind feeling like it was barely able to function. She felt the thing's teeth dig into the flesh of her arm, and she opened her mouth to scream. Nothing came. Nothing was escaping her mouth, not even her breath.

She stood in the doorway, feeling something inside of her arm. Inside of _her_. Violating her. Widened eyes could only stare into the distance behind the thing that was biting her, into the corridor where more of them stumbled and lurched towards her, towards other places in the complex.

It was then that her brain decided to join the party.

And she screamed.

She screamed and fought to get her arm away, gasping and choking for air. The blood was seeping down her arm, but the wound was…it was…_boiling._

Like a pot of water, it was bubbling, boiling, and spilling over, streaked with white stains.

Again her stomach convulsed, but she steadied it with the remnants of her will. The fading remnants.

The thing lunged, pinstripes and all. It came for her, but she stepped back, stumbled backwards and fell to the floor, scurrying like a trapped mouse. It followed her and so did the others, all coming for her inside of the cramped apartment. All with the same skin that dripped off of their bones like melting chocolate in the summer heat.

The fluffy slippers came off in her back-pedalling, and the thing dropped on top of her. The Ginsu knife in her hand became an extension of it, and through the tears in her eyes, she screamed and clawed for survival. And so she pulled back the hand with the knife – guaranteed sharp for life – and her strength kicked in. Her super-strength, her smash-killer-robots strength, her kill-Sonic-for-thinking-of-another-woman strength, it kicked in with her adrenaline and fear and desperation, and her hand arced towards the thing's head as it tried to bite into her.

The bone could have been rice paper for all she knew.

Dead weight fell on top of her, and the stench of death invaded her personal space. She yelped and whimpered and scrambled to get it off, her sobbing not convincing the other attackers to stop. The headless body rolled to one side, the head finally hitting the carpet as bleach-white blood trailed it and dripped on the floor.

Amy stood up and scrambled to the nearest open door, but stopped short and grabbed something off of the table nearby. In the back of her mind, she wanted to kill the landlord for not fixing the doorknob for her bedroom's door earlier. He had promised later today, but now…now wasn't the best time…

The next door was closed, but unlocked. She knew that well, it was her home. Flinging it open, she swiftly rushed behind it and locked it tightly. Her steps were small as she backed away from it, and a bump against the door threw her on her behind, leaving her sobbing uncontrollably. Amy backed into the toilet, and her stomach couldn't hold any more as the memories flooded her brain. Her left arm still sizzled.

She had been bitten.

She had been bitten by a zombie.

She had decapitated a zombie.

She was trapped.

She was going to die.

She was going to die.

She was going to die.

Another twist from her stomach, and she spun around to lift the toilet cover before her stomach emptied. The taste of acid and bile made her choke, chunks of food rushing the wrong way along with the fluid in her stomach. She coughed and sputtered into the toilet bowl, her gut going into spasms with each passing moment.

She could barely hear the banging against the door as she emptied herself, energy leaving her at a frightening pace. Blood trickled down her legs as they scraped against the bathroom tiles. She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out the only possession she managed to grab…her mobile phone. Hot pink, with a Sonic ornament hanging off of it by a piece of blue cord.

Amy turned and leaned against the toilet before she noticed the cupboard on her sink. She opened it and pulled out a bottle, her fingers stripping it of protective plastic. She pulled off the cap and sipped on the minty mouthwash, swishing it about in her mouth and gargling.

She spit the liquid into the toilet bowl before finally flushing it.

The Ginsu knife fell out of her hand as she relaxed it, again realizing it was there. It had saved her life, and…it would certainly prove useful if she were going to survive.

Survive.

It seemed so…surreal.

How was she supposed to feel?

Amy searched herself, but found nothing. All she knew now was the pain in her left arm. Again, she rifled through the bottom cupboard and found an extra supply of gauze and bandage. There were some things on the top, but she didn't feel like moving so much…

The arm was bandaged and sterilized as best as it could be. Amy stared, her eyes pointed at the shaking bathroom door but unfocused. She was trying to think, but nothing came of it.

An hour passed.

The burning in the left arm became more intense. She wanted to say something out loud, but the tension in her body kept her still, kept her stuck to the floor. Legs out in front of her, back against the toilet bowl. Legs trickling blood. Right hand toying with the knife on the floor.

"Mm…"

Releasing the tension…was what was needed.

Too much tension. Couldn't think of anything.

Her music player was still in her back pocket, pushing uncomfortably against her butt as she sat. She fished it out with one free hand, found the ear buds again.

No, that wouldn't be enough. What else did she do to release the tension?

"Think…?"

No, not just releasing tension.

_Relaxing._

As mundane as it sounded…it was relaxation that she needed. Yes, it made sense.

What did she do to _relax_?

The bottom cupboard remained open for her. She reached for something with a stiff foot, knocking it out to the floor and kicking it backwards. A plastic bottle.

A special plastic bottle.

She grabbed it and flipped open the cap, the fresh scent of peaches running up her nose. A sigh escaped her lips, a happy one as she felt herself shiver at the scent. A knot in some distant place on her body loosened for just a moment.

"Oh…that's what I need to do…"

She shifted herself from her sitting position, and crawled to the sparking white bathtub just a few feet away to her right. Her hands fumbled with the faucet before she turned the handle to the left, just into the right position for hot water. She sealed the bottom plug, and water started to fill the tub.

Amy reached over and turned the peach bottle over, spilling the golden liquid into the warm waters. It bubbled and foamed as the water rose and rose and rose.

Finding the strength to stand, she reached for the waterproof casing on the rack above the faucet and slipped it onto the music player. She dropped the bottle from her hands and wiggled out of her clothing before gently sliding into the bathtub as it filled.

Warm water hit her full force, and she let a moan escape her lips as her body sank into the bottom of the bathtub.

The banging on the door was steady, almost rhythmic to the point where she could dismiss it. She knew they were there, waiting for her. Waiting for their chance.

But the scent of peaches made her shudder in pleasure before her thoughts could shake her. Soapy water spilled over the side of the tub and to the floor, running quickly along the grooves between the tiles.

Amy reached for her music player, taking it into the water and shuffling to a song that fit her mood…or lack thereof.

"Oh…this one. I like this one…"

She closed her eyes as the music began to play, fiddling with her phone in her left hand. Switching it to the speaker, she dialled a familiar number and waited as the dial tone rang out.

"_Now you have been blue, yes, but you ain't been blue…'till you had that mood indigo…_"

The bathroom door rumbled loudly, bodies pounding against it in muted frustration.

The girl in the bathtub simply sighed, and paid it no mind.

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><p>That concludes this episode. Stay tuned.<p>

In this chapter: _Through the Fire_ by Chaka Khan and _Mood Indigo_ as sung by Louis Armstrong. I own no part of either song…but have a listen to those anyways. Seriously. Good stuff. Fun fact: _Through the Fire _is also sampled in _Through the Wire_ by Kanye West. So there you go. End rambling.


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